


The Hobbit: Dragon Fire and Ruin

by MoHiggins15



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: During The Hobbit, Erebor, F/M, Fairy Tale Elements, Middle Earth, Mirkwood, Rivendell | Imladris, The Shire
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:21:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27638795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoHiggins15/pseuds/MoHiggins15
Summary: "I was there the day Smaug attacked Dale. I saw the burning remains of my home where I had last saw my family. The dragon rained down his fire upon me and Lord Elrond found me near death. For fifty years I remained under the Elven sleeping spell until I was strong enough to awake. If my family did survive, they are gone now. Only I remain. That, Thorin Oakenshield, is why I am here. No one could possibly hate Smaug more than I."
Relationships: Fíli (Tolkien)/Sigrid (Hobbit Movies), Kíli (Tolkien)/Tauriel (Hobbit Movies), Legolas Greenleaf/Tauriel, Thorin Oakenshield & Original Female Character(s), Thorin Oakenshield/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13
Collections: The Hobbit Fanfics





	1. Once Upon a Time...

Long ago the Fairies ruled the woodland realms. Known for their magic as well as ferocity, they were respected by all, well, almost all. An ancient evil had crept across the lands of Middle Earth first taking a foothold in the realm of the fairies. The Fae King, Carpus, knew that the fae's magic must be kept from this great evil. Without giving in to the dark lords demands that the fae join him, the fairies were slaughtered one by one. The King's son, Prince Morel, was the only fae to escape. His only chance of escape was to take human form, but for fairies they can remain in such a state for only a day before their lives are spent. In his last moments he fled to the realm of men to find the one he loved. A young human maiden, Amara. Spending their last day together, Amara and Prince Morel conceived a child of with one of Fae and human blood. In order to keep magic of his people hidden, Prince Morel decreed that none of his bloodline would be granted the powers of his people until needed and deemed worthy of such a gift. As the sunset over the horizon Prince Morel breathed his last under the colorful and bright sky of the setting sun with his Amara by his side.

Hundreds of years past and the dark lord fell. Word had spread that his great deeds of evil were because of the aid of the fae people. Rumors spread of how the fae encrusted his ring of power with a curse to corrupt even the purest of hearts, but such is rumors. Some even believe the once placid fairy folk turned so dark that the transformed into the hideous fire breathing beasts, much like the one that had destroyed the city of Dale and hoarded the gold of Erebor. Anyone who held the mark of a fae were to be slaughtered, written off as enemies of Middle Earth, but that was then, and this is now. While the story of the fairies become tales of legend, the story went on. Years after the passing of Morel and Amara their bloodline grew producing dozens of different generations of sons and daughters. Non had ever been deemed worthy of their great grandfathers gift until one cold February morning when a country maiden gave birth to her first child, a daughter, Amelia.


	2. There once was a Dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amelia remembers the destruction of Dale and the day the Dragon came.

*Amelia*

I can still see the fire in the trees. As I stand on the blackened cobblestone, I feel the heat of the fire around me. No matter how hard I try I can’t move. My feet refuse to run and my eyes freeze looking up to the burning sky. Dozens of frightened and injured people run past me and some even through me. I’m invisible, but not to the beast in the sky. Raining his fire down he resorts most of the city to ashes with no regard of the innocent lives fleeing for safety. Just ahead, on the horizon of the view from the center of the city I see the mountain. The dragon stamps his way to the gates blowing rolling waves of flame against the doors before knocking them down. Trembling I can only watch in my frozen state as the people of the city and Kingdom of Dwarves burn alive whilst their families flee in hopes of escaping the winged furnace, the bringer of death, Smaug.

Screaming I sit straight up in bed. Clutching my chest, I feel the pounding of my heart knock against my ribcage waiting to burst at any given moment. Almost every night I dream of the dragon attacking the city. It has been sixty years since Smaug attacked Dale before setting his sights on the lonely mountain. I had been there those many years ago. I was a young woman of Dale. Living with my mother, her husband, and my little sister. When the dragon came, I had been wondering the streets away from my family. As the city went up in flame, so did our home. I had no time to return to see if my family had survived for, I had been a victim to the flame. Alone I had wandered the forests aimlessly until finding my way to open fields leading to nowhere. After some time, dehydration had set in as well as infection causing me to collapse. It wasn’t until nightfall that an Elven lord returning home had found me.

In order to help me survive he was forced to cast a sleeping spell upon me, only allowing me to wake when strong enough. It took me fifty-five years to awake again. If my family had indeed survived the attack, my mother has long since passed, and my sister would be an old woman. Still, to see her face again rather it be a wrinkled old woman, or the same freckled nose teenager would be enough for me. Sleeping through so many years without aging had its effects on me the nightmares being most prominent. It hadn’t been long after I awoke that I found myself in the city of Elves, Rivendell. Lord Elrond had saved my life with the help of one of his friends, Gandalf the Grey, a wizard of Middle Earth. Once strong enough I had traveled with the wandering Wizard visiting places of Middle Earth I never knew existed. Still, the question remained, did my family survive the Dragon fire, or succumb to it? The only way to have my answer is to leave the safety of my hut, follow the wandering wizard, and help the Dwarven King reclaim the lonely mountain.


	3. The Dwarves in the Shire

*Thorin*  
It had been so long since the clans gathered in the name of my grandfather, for my father, and for me. Our lost Kingdom of Erebor still sits in our Dwarvish lands far to the east. There the dragon sits on his stolen plunder sleeping until the Dwarves of Erebor will come knocking on the front door.   
Certain.  
That was the word I would have used when I had sat down at the meeting of my kin. I was certain they would comply. I was certain they would all agree. I was certain Dain would give aid to our journey. I was certainly wrong. The Company of Dwarves I had chosen and spent my time with were the only ones to join me on this treacherous journey for reconcile, revenge, and redemption. Standing here before the large circular door I can hear the laughter coming from inside. Giving three forceful knocks upon the door the laughter falls silent and hushed whispers trickle out. As the door swings open, I see the tall grey wizard before me “Gandalf.”  
Smiling and gesturing for me to come in I step through the threshold slightly ducking down through the door. My eyes scan the room seeing the faces of all my friends including my two nephews Fili and Kili. As I remove my cloak I turn to the wizard “I thought you said this place would be easy to find? I lost my way, twice. Would never have found it if it had not been for the mark on the door.”  
Pushing through the crowd of Dwarves the small curly haired fellow, our so-called Burglar, scurries about “Mark? No, there is no mark on that door. It was painted a week ago!”  
Nervously Gandalf chuckles “There is a mark on the door. I put it there myself.”  
As he whirls the halfling around they both face me “Bilbo Baggins, allow me to introduce the leader of our Company, Thorin Oakenshield.”  
Crossing my arms amused I stare him down “So, this is the Hobbit.” Circling him I begin my series of questions knowing full and well the answers to each one “Tell me Mr. Baggins have you done much fighting?”  
“Beg your pardon?”  
“Axe or sword, what’s the weapon of your choice?”  
Straightening up the Hobbit tries standing his ground against me “Well I have some skill at conquers if you must know, but I fail to see how that’s relevant.”   
Scoffing I glance back to the others “Thought as much. He looks more like a grocer than a burglar.”   
As the others laugh and snicker at my jest I smirk sarcastically to the Hobbit before taking leave of him and the wizard. Ushered by my companions I follow them into the dining room where warm food awaits me.  
“Did the clans come?” Balin asks eagerly.   
I nod “Aye, all clans from the blue mountains and Iron Hills.”  
Next to Gandalf, Dwalin, one of my oldest friends, speaks the burning question “The Dwarves of the Iron Hills…is Dain with us?”  
The pit forms in the bottom of my stomach. For a moment I feel as if I will be sick. Setting down my spoon I stare into the bowl of red soup. Lowly I speak “They will not come.”  
A chain reaction of disappointed groans come from the dwarves. I myself match their dishearten “They this quest is ours and ours alone…there is no one else.”  
Clearing his throat Gandalf shifts uncomfortably “Well, now, that’s not entirely true.”  
We all look to the wizard who has until now been silent. I lean in anticipating his answer “What do you mean ‘not entirely’?”  
“I know someone who has just as much cause as the rest of you to travel to Erebor. They have awaited the chance to return to the lonely mountain and see the dragon slain.”  
“Dragon?!” Bilbo exclaims from behind.   
We all turn facing the Hobbit who is pale in the face. Nervously he pulls at his trouser straps looking from Gandalf to the rest of the Company. Bofur immediately takes action “Yes, that would be in reference to Smaug the terrible.”  
Gandalf quickly interjects “While the dragon may still be there, I have a plan. It will be filled with many dangerous and it will take no small amount of courage. But if we are quick and clever, I believe it can be done.”   
Ori speaks up pointing to the Hobbit “That’s why we need a burglar.”  
Bilbo chuckles “Yes, an expert I’d imagine.”  
“And are you?” Gloin asks.   
Glancing behind him the Hobbit is flustered by our gazes oblivious to the situation he’s found himself in “Am I what?”  
“Did you hear that? He said he’s an expert!” Oin cheers.  
Bilbo is baffled and steps back “What? No-no-no, I’m not a burglar! I’ve never stolen a thing in my life!”  
Regretfully Balin concurs “I’m afraid I have to agree with Mr. Baggins. He’s hardly burglar material.”  
Many of the other Dwarves agree. Some voice their opinions whilst some make snickers to the Hobbit who is more than happy to agree with the majority. The overwhelming sense of anger seethes from Gandalf. Arising from his chair with a looming shadow he bellows “If I say Mr. Baggins is a burglar than a burglar…he is.”  
Finally settling back down Gandalf speaks in more of a calm tone “Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet. They can pass unseen by most if they choose, and while the dragon is accustomed to the smell of dwarf, the scent of Hobbit is all but unknown to him which gives us a distinct advantage.”  
I can already tell the wizard will not budge on his decision. As he looks back at me, he speaks fervently “You asked me to find the fourteenth member of this Company, and I have chosen Mr. Baggins. There is more to him than appearances suggest, and he’s got a great deal more to offer than any of you know…. including himself.”  
Sighing I look to the wizard and then to the Hobbit. Mr. Baggins seems like he’s almost begging me to stick with my original abjection, but without him, we don’t stand a chance at tricking the dragon. Motioning to Balin “Fine. We’ll do it your way. Give him the contract.” I take the parchment from the elder dwarf and slap it onto Bilbo’s chest.  
Fumbling with the lengthy pages the Hobbit steps back reading over the contents. Balin points out the key highlights “It’s just the usual. Out of pocket expenses, time required, remuneration, funeral arrangements, so forth.”  
Stumbling back the Hobbit begins reading aloud the contents. Gandalf looks to me most amused as we listen in to the murmurs of the Hobbit.  
“Cash upon delivery one fourteenth of profit if any…hmm, seems fair…ugh…injuries sustained by next exceeding toooo laaacerations…. evisceration???...Incineration…?!”   
As the wide-eyed Hobbit looks to the rest of us Bofur grins to the other dwarves “Oh aye, hell melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye.”  
Whimpering the Hobbit breathes exasperated causing concern with Balin “You alright laddie?”  
Bilbo bends over turning pale in the face “Uh-I….I feel a bit faint.”  
Bofur can’t help but see how much the Hobbit can take “Think furnace with wings…”  
“Air-I-I need air.”  
“…flash of light, searing pain, and then poof! Your nothing more than a pile of ashes.”  
Waiting we all look to the Hobbit to see what he’ll do. Surprisingly he’s still standing. Straightening himself he nods regaining his composer. However, an audible but distant scream fills the Hobbit hole bringing me to my feet. Jumping in fear the paleness in the Hobbits face returns and he falls back with a thud hitting his wooden floor. I, however, have bolted out the round door with my sword in hand.


	4. The Fifteenth Member

*Amelia*

My father had taught me from a young age how to protect myself. How to survive on my own for as long as I could. When I got the urgent letter from Gandalf, I immediately felt those old defensive instincts kick in. It seems as if I had sat at my desk for hours with the parchment in hand. For so many years I had awaited to chance to go back home, or to what was left of it. I had question that had yet to be answered, and I will have it one way or another. Dragon or no dragon I will return home, and no one will stand in my way.  
Except for the duo of treacherous men before me on the woodland road.  
I thought that perhaps I could talk my way out or pay them off enough to leave me be, but the sack of coins or pack of clothing weren’t what they were wanting. Well, except for the ones I am wearing. Before I could pull out my dagger, they apprehend me with me violently kicking and thrashing about. Given my size I knew it wouldn’t be an easy task in the first place to get ahold of me, but I guess they were up for the challenge.   
“LET ME GO! STOP!” I shout trying to free myself from their firm grips.   
“Don’t worry there lassy…” one hisses “…we promise to be gentle.”  
The second laughs “As long as yer good to us well be good to you.”  
Chuckling to one another they begin pulling me off the moonlit road and into the dark woods. I know they will have their way with me and then finish me off or leave me to die. I have survived the fires of Smaug, I cannot fall victim to them.  
Screaming as loud as I can I deliver a swift kick and watch as blood to explodes from the second captures nose. Dropping me to the ground he howls in pain clutching his broken face. Scrambling I run to make it back to the path and to my destination as quickly as I can. Just before I can reach the path, I feel the cold hands grip my ankles in an icy bind.   
“No!” I shout as the first captor drags me across the forest floor.   
Seething in anger he hisses “I’m going to fuck you bloody!”  
Just as he goes to part my flailing legs, I let out an ear-piercing scream right before a dark mass cuts down the apprehender. The other emerges from the forest but see’s the sight of his Conrad laying in a bloodied heap on the forest floor. Looking from my rescuer to me he quickly run back into the thicket disappearing into the night.  
Breathlessly I look at the cut open chest cavity of my assailant up to the broad looming figure. Slowly he turns around and the moonlight illuminates his features. His electric blue hues shine down on me and his dark raven hair flows like wavering rivers. Silently he extends a hand to me and I take it graciously. In an instant he has me on my feet as if I were as light as a feather. I feel the callousness of his strong Dwarvish hand but feel a security in his tight grip.  
“Are you alright?” he asks quickly glancing over me looking for any sort of wounds, torn clothes, or lack thereof.   
“Y-Yes….thank you.” I stammer trying to get control of my emotions.   
“No thanks needed.” He states softly releasing my hand he had been holding until just now “A young woman should not travel the roads alone, especially in the dark.”  
Brushing the dirt off my pants I chuckle nervously “Well, sometimes there is no other way.”  
Giving a humph, the tall dwarf sheathes his sword and picks up my discarded pack. Dusting it off his slings it over his shoulder and turns back to me “Tell me where you are heading and perhaps, I can take you halfway there.”  
Moved by his act of kindness I blush “Oh-n-no that’s alright. In fact, it’s just up the road here.”  
He raises a brow “Your meant to be in the Shire?”  
I furrow my brows “Y-yes? How did you-“  
A thundering roar of battle cries and stampeding feet come our way. Sighing shamefully the Dwarf pushes me gently back with his arm completely unalarmed of the noises. Crashing down the path come a group of Dwarves all different shapes and sizes. Old and young alike have raised weapons at the ready but halt seeing the dark-haired dwarf and I standing there. With weapons still raised they freeze falling silent at the presents of no danger. Crossing his arms, the Dwarf stares them down raising a brow.   
“Oi…where’s the danger?” the stout red-haired dwarf asks.  
“It was nothing master Gloin. This young Maiden just got in a little…entanglement is all.”   
Relieved I glance over to the Dwarf who looks back at me. Slightly I nod giving thanks for him keeping my misadventures my own and no one else’s. He nods reassuring me that his companions will know nothing of this night on the woodland road.  
“Well…who is she then?” Barks the next tallest dwarf with a tattooed covered scalp. As the rest of the dwarves stare me down a tall familiar figure approach from behind him. Smiling I recognize the wizards face  
“This is Amelia Gracie. The fifteenth member of our Company.”


	5. Golden Light

*Thorin*  
Inside the comfort of the Hobbit hole, I stand with the human, Gandalf, and Balin in the living area. The Hobbit, still out cold, lies in the spot we left him with a pillow under his head. Gandalf seems to be familiar with the girl as he mutters indistinctly into her ear. Her eyes look up at me as she hesitantly removes a roped necklace from her neck. Collecting it in her hands she approaches extending the grey key to me. My eyes widen at its familiarity and I take in graciously in my hands “How did you come by this?” I look to the girl for answers, but the wizard interjects “It was given to me by your father. Amelia took up the responsibility of carrying it for safe keeping. It is yours now.”  
Looking from the key to Amelia I see the shining of her eyes and the crinkle around the corners as she smiles. I nod offering a smile back as she takes a step back. Just as she turns by eyes catch the scraps and bloodied cuts on her knuckles that she quickly conceals with a tug of her sleeve. Balin turns to me with a hopeful glint in his eye. Showing him to key I nod “There’s another way in.”  
“The trick is finding out where.” Gandalf chimes in “The answers are here in this map, but I do not have the skill to read it. However, there are some in Middle Earth who do. We shall leave at first light. We must be rested up.”  
Standing Gandalf leaves the room accompanied by Balin and they join the others who sip on more ale and hot tea in the dining room. Amelia and I are left alone in the living area with an uneasy silence. As she shifts uncomfortably in her seat, I can tell the atmosphere is more painful than her cuts a scrape’s. Standing to my feet she looks up to me as I hold my hand out for her to stay put. Turning I leave the room for a moment but return with a warm, damp, rag and bandages. Alert the young woman sits up straighter as I scoot my chair right up to her.   
“Here.” I take her hand in mine “Let’s get these taken care of.”  
Dabbing her bloodied knuckles she fumbles over her words “O-oh you don’t- I can take care of it-thank you-you don’t have to do th-..”  
“If we don’t clean them the cuts will get infected. I’m sure you’d like to return home with both your hands.” I smirk and go back to cleaning off the dried blood and dirt.   
Giving a snort she nods “Good point. Thank you.”  
“For this?” I question raising a brow.  
“N-no! I mean-yes, but also for…. everything else.”  
My eyes lift back up meeting hers. I can see the embarrassment but the fear as well. I can read her like a book. She wouldn’t know danger if it were staring her in the face or maybe she had so much instilled within her it became a part of her. Taring her eyes away I also sit back and focus back on her small hands “Will you return home at first light?” I question.  
She looks back to me confused “Returning home? No, I’m accompanying you to the Lonely mountain.”  
Grumbling I begin harshly wrapping her hands in dry bandages “The wild is no place for a woman. At least not one such as yourself.”  
“Such as myself?” she snaps narrowing her eyes “Have I done something wrong?”  
“No.” I tie off her left hands bandage “Nothing you’ve done but what you didn’t do or cannot do. This journey is dangerous and to be met with skill and precision. You don’t seem like the woman capable of such things.”  
Annoyed she retorts “And you’re basing this off of what happened earlier tonight?”  
“Partially.” I shrug and finish tying off the last of her bandage and then stand to my feet “Join us if you wish but fall behind you get left behind. Do not expect me or any of us to risk this quest for the sake of one.”   
“Please, don’t worry yourself to death on my account…” she grumbles under her breathe unaware I have heard a word she’s said. Clenching my fist, I feel the anger arise and can tell Amelia is experiencing the same as her cheeks redden.   
“This isn’t a game my lady. If we are to survive the dangers of the wild, we will have a fire breathing dragon awaiting us in the end. Now is not the time to have your girlish adventure based off a whim.”  
Nodding Amelia calmly stands to her feet with her eyes to the ground “I came here to help you get your home back. No one understands how you feel more than I do but….my mistake.” and she disappears into the other room.

The Company joins me in the living area. Some sip on the last of the ale and others smoke their tobacco pipes quietly including myself. The warm fire from the furnace warms the room and lights the home in a golden hue. Staring into the flames lost in my thoughts and memory I see the flames consuming Dale. I can hear the screams of my people as feel the dragons flame upon my skin. Lowly I sing as the scenes play out in my mind “Far over the Misty Mountains cold…To dungeons deep and caverns old. We must await, ere break of day, to find our long-forgotten gold.”  
Bofur joins in as well as the others, some singing in a deep low hum “The pines were roaring on the height, the winds were moaning in the night. The fire was red, it flaming spread; the trees like torches blazed with light.”

As the song fades out the room is filled with silence. However, I can feel eyes staring at me from within the room. Looking up I meet Amelia’s eyes as they shimmer with tears. I only hold her gaze for a moment before she looks away. Something is so familiar about her. Deep down I feel as if I had known her in a past life of some sort. To me the pain she harbors is the one we both share.


	6. Baggins

*Bilbo*  
I sit in my chair, shivering and clutching my mug “I'll be alright, just let me sit quietly for a moment.”  
Sitting in another chair across from me, I look from Enola to Gandalf who is less than happy. The grey wizard snaps gazing down at me, a look of disappointment in his eyes “You've been sitting quietly for far too long. When did dollies and your mother's dishes become so important to you?”  
I remain quite as Gandalf looms over me “I remember a young hobbit who was always running off in search of elves in the woods. He'd stay out late, trailing mud and twigs and fireflies. A young hobbit who would have liked nothing better than to find out what was beyond the borders of the Shire.”  
Still ignoring him I stare down into my mug wanting nothing more for him to leave me be. Obviously, he’s reflecting on my childhood, but sitting here now I know I’m not the same Hobbit Gandalf speaks of.   
“No! No, I cannot just go running off into the blue. I am a Baggins….*gulp*..of Bag-End.”  
“You are also a Took!” Gandalf exclaims and I look pleadingly to Enola who only answers me with silence “Did you know your great-great grandfather was large enough that he could ride a real horse?”  
“…Yes.”  
“Well, he could!” Gandalf shouts “He led the charge against the Goblin hoard. Swung his club and knocked the Goblin King’s head off and it fell down a rabbit hole. And thus, the battle was won….and the game of gold invented at the same time.”  
I scoff “I think you made that up.”  
Gandalf smirks “Well, all good stories deserve a little embellishment.” Looking from me to Enola he has a twinkle in his eyes “You'll have a tale or two to tell of your own when you come back.”  
“Can you promise that I will come back?” I ask.  
Gandalf’s face falls. He looks to me and the look on his face sends shivers down my spine. He shakes his head morbidly “No. But if you do, you will not be the same.”  
“That's what I thought. I'm sorry, Gandalf, but I can't sign this. You've got the wrong hobbit.”  
Before I can leave Enola speaks up “I’m scared too.”  
I stop and turn back facing her “And rightfully so. You’re embarking on a journey that had nothing to do with you. Why?”  
Biting her lip, the girl speaks shakily “I’ve been trying to put on a brave face, but the truth is that I’m not. I’m not brave, a warrior, or a hero. I’m just a girl who wants to help. Someone who needs to help. I feel if I do this. If I help the dwarves, then maybe I can find some answers and closure of my own.”  
I take the young woman’s words to heart and admire her bravery, but I do not share her yearning for clarity or answers. Everything I’ve ever known or need to be right here. I head back into my bedroom leaving the girl and wizard behind as she calls after me “Bilbo, wait!”

The singing of the dwarves had lulled me to sleep in no time. Luckily, I did not dream of dragons, fire, or lonely mountaintops. Stretching I open my eyes to the sun pouring into my room. For a moment the events of last night had not occurred to me until I awoke in the silence. Quickly I get out of bed and sneak into the living space of my home.  
“Hello?” I call out but no reply.   
I peer into every room cautiously and see everything just as it was before. Aside from my bare food pantry. The Hobbit hole is silent, and I can’t help but make a small leap for joy. However, as I stand in the silence, I look around the almost grey colored walls and cold silence. To my left resting on the table is the contract. I see Thorin and Balin’s name signed at the bottom and a blank space for my own. Despite my aggravations of the night before it was good to not be alone for once. The laughter, singing, and conversations actually seemed quite pleasing, just not at the time. Particularly the young human girls face was the one thing I took away from it all. She was embarking on a treacherous journey for the sake of giving aid. Why couldn’t I, a Hobbit, be just as generous? Besides, when will I get a chance like this again?  
I dart out of my home and down the hill. The heavy pack strapped around my shoulders seems light as a feather. The contract in my hand whips in the air as I run. I jump over fences, animals, and crops. My neighbors look befuddled and shake their heads in disapproval, but I’m in too big of rush to care. Just as I jump the last fence, I see Mr. Worrywart.  
“Mr. Bilbo, where are you off to?”  
“Can’t stop I’m already late!”   
“Late for what?”  
“I’m going on an adventure!”


	7. Adventure Begins

*Enola*  
I ride on my pony next to Gandalf who sways to the motion of his own horse. Everyone within the group is quiet except for a few dwarves who go on about Bilbo and his cowardness. My blood boils with each passing banter towards the absent Bilbo who is unable to speak or defend himself. Two of the dwarves and brothers, Fili and Kili, go after him the hardest.  
“He probably would have been picked off before he could make it past the mailbox!” Kili remarks which Fili snickers and laughs “Right mate.”  
I grit my teeth trying to keep my mouth closed but grumble “Yes, and you two probably can’t tell your ass from a hole in the ground…!”  
“What was that?” Gandalf asks snapping my head up to attention “Oh, nothing.”  
However, as we keep riding on both brothers seem to fall silent and I know they must have heard my remark. Typically, it would perplex me for someone to hear my gests but now I can only smile. What improves my mood further is the voice calling from the distance “Wait! Wait!” The entire Company comes to a halt and we look back seeing the Hobbit chasing after us with his contract held high.   
“I signed it!” he says happily trying to catch his breath “I signed the contract.”  
Balin takes it from the short-winded Hobbit examining it closely with his spectacles. I along the with most of the others hold our breath waiting for Balin who only smiles. Folding up the contract he hands it back to Bilbo “Well, everything seems to be in order. Welcome Master Baggins to the Company of Thorin Oakenshield.”  
I and some others clap while some cheer. Thorin and Dwalin however seem anything but pleased. Frowning Thorin sticks his nose up to Bilbo snapping “Give him a pony.”  
“Oh, no, that won’t be necessary.” Bilbo declines “I’ve had plenty of walking holidays. I made it so far as to-aaahhhh!” he’s cut shirt as Fili and Kili lift him up off the ground and onto the back of a chocolate brown pony.

As the journey continues on, I look to the tree’s surrounding us in the woods. I may not remember everything that happened in Dale, but I know exactly what happened after. I remember the pain radiating throughout my body. Clutching my flayed arm as I stumbled aimlessly through the woods. Then I remember being on my back and seeing sky.  
“Enola?”  
My attention snaps up to Gandalf who is eyeing me with his familiar fretful look “How have you been sleeping?”  
I force a smile and regretfully lie “Fine. No more nightmares.”  
Disapprovingly Gandalf looks back at me with suspicion “I’ve known you quite some time dear girl. I can tell when you give the truth and when you do not.”  
Nervously I chuckle “My friend you worry too much.”  
“Perhaps not enough.”  
I frown seeing Gandalf’s face as he gives a sympathetic smirk before looking back up ahead. Luckily Bilbo’s sneezes and complaints shifted the grey wizard’s attention.   
“Oh, horsehair….” Bilbo laughs searching his pockets “I’m having a reaction.”  
His eyes widen and he frantically calls out “Wait. Stop!”  
The entire company comes to a halt looking back to the Hobbit. Gandalf and I turn back as well hearing his excuse “We have to go back! I forgot my handkerchief.”  
The company laughs and snickers mockingly. I sigh and watch Bofur tare a piece of his dirty tunic. Giving it a toss, the Hobbit catches it “Here ya go. Use this.” but I doubt Bilbo ever will.  
“Move on.” Thorin commands trying to withhold his own amused reaction which actually makes me want to smile. However, I recall on his attitude and demeanor and I find myself only annoyed. Gandalf however is not amused in the slightest by the Hobbit and offers a word of warning “You’ll have to manage without pocket-handkerchiefs and a good many other things, Bilbo Baggins, before we reach out journey’s end. You were born to the rolling hills of the Shire. Home is now behind you; the world is ahead.”   
For some time, we are blessed with the warm sun and shady tree’s, however, as we make out way into the thickened forest dark clouds roll in.  
Dori calls out through the hiss of the rain “Here, Mr. Gandalf, can’t you do something about this deluge?”  
“It is raining master dwarf, and it will continue to rain until the rain is done…” Gandalf calls back “If you wish to change the weather of the world you should find yourself another wizard.”  
“Are there any other wizards?” Bilbo asks.  
Gandalf nods “There are five of us. The greatest of our order is Saruman the white. Then there are the two blue wizards…you know, I’ve quite forgotten their names.”  
“And who is the fifth?” I ask from behind Gandalf.  
“Well, that would be Radagast the brown.”  
“Is he a great wizard of is he more like you?” Bilbo retorts and I gawk at his quip.  
Slightly offended Gandalf sighs “I think he is a very great wizard I his own way. He’s a gentle soul who prefers the company of animals to others. He keeps a watchful eye to the vast forest lands to the east, and a good thing too, for always evil will look to find a foothold in this world.”


	8. Orcs and Dwarves

*Enola*  
I’m standing in the midst of an unfamiliar wood. The sun is shining through the trees, but clouds are beginning to collect overhead. In mere seconds the rain comes pouring down on me, but I am unaffected by the chill. The forest glimmers in the beauty of the diamond droplets falling from the sky. However, my placid feeling is overtaken by an uneasiness. The forest darkens and the green plush grass wilts around me. Turning I see the rest of the forest die off and what wildlife that is out an about falls dead as well. Clutching my chest, I feel the overwhelming panic flood in. It’s as if the darkness is coming closer and for me. The rain picks up to a heavy downpour but is no longer rain. Petrified I look down to my clothes and hands. The sweet smell of rain now smells of iron and death. The crimson red stains my skin and clothes as I am now drenched in the foul deluge. I close my hands and look to the red stained forest “Blood.”  
A piercing shriek brings me from my bloody nightmare. Sitting straight up from my cot I’m met with the scenery of Fili and Kili camped around the fire. Bilbo who has been over by the pony’s seems just as alarmed. The shriek I had heard was not in my nightmare but my reality.   
“What was that?” I ask standing to my feet and coming up to the fire. To my right I see Thorin has even abruptly awakened looking around fretfully.   
“Orcs.” Kili replies and Bilbo huddles next to me “Orcs?”  
My eyes look to Gandalf who resides against a tree near my cot. He gives me a look of worry, but I look back to the two brothers “What do they look like?”  
“You’ve never seen an Orc?” Kili questions and I shake my head along with Bilbo.  
“Their throat cutters. There will be dozens of them out there crawling in the lowlands.” Fili remarks as if it were nothing.   
“They can’t get us from here, can they?” I ask looking over my shoulder.  
Kili fearfully looks down “They attack in wee small hours of the night while everyone’s asleep. Real quiet, no screams, just lots of blood.”  
I can feel the uneasiness coming from Bilbo, but perhaps it was my own fear. In my travels with Gandalf, we never encountered Orcs, but I’ve seen what they can do. Plunder and destroy villages. Leaving behind trails of bodies and weeping widows. As Kili tosses another stick in the fire the flames erupt and blow out towards me. The heat bursts in my face until all I can see it red. Screaming, I fall back from my seat as the image of the dragon descending on me replays in my mind. The screams of my neighbors burning fill my ears and I fall back onto the ground covering my head.   
Stilling I hear the silence again until the young dwarf laughs “Orcs and fire? You may not be suited so well for this adventure after all.”  
Kili laughs and nudges his brother who only shakes his head as I begin sitting up. Fighting back tears and control my trembling body I scoot back “I-I’m sorry. I-…”  
As my cheeks burn, I want nothing more than to disappear, but a hand extends to me. Looking up I see Thorin looking down at me with sympathy. Hesitantly I take his hand as he lifts me to my feet. He pulls me closer than I’m prepared for to where our chests are pressed together.  
He looks into my eyes and gives my hand a squeeze but when he looks to the two brothers his face darkens “You think its funny? You think a night raid from Orcs is a joke?”  
Kili’s face falls looking to his feet “We didn’t mean anything by it.”  
Thorin then leaves my side marching off to the overlook “No you didn’t. You know nothing of the world!”  
After my nerves have calmed, I watch Thorin set away from the group. While I watch him stare aimlessly off the cliffside I hear Balin speak to Fili and Kili “Don’t mind him laddy. Thorin has more reason than most to hate Orcs.”  
Furrowing my brow, I look from Thorin to Balin “What do you mean? What happened?”  
Balin scratches his beard looking at the campfire. He looks as if he shares the same painful memories as Thorin. Resting his arm against the rock he begins telling us the painful tale “After the dragon had stolen the lonely mountain King Thror tried to go and reclaim our ancient Dwarf Kingdom of Moria, but our enemy had gotten there first. It was legions of Orcs led by the vilest of their race. The pale Orc, Azog. He had sworn to wipe out the line of Durin, and he began by beheading the King. Thorin’s father, Thrain, was driven mad with grief. He had been captured or killed…we didn’t know. We were leaderless. Defeat and death were upon us. That is when I saw him. A young Dwarf Prince facing down the Pale Orc. Wielding nothing but an Oaken branch as a shield Thorin stood alone against this terrible foe! Azog the defiler learned that day that the line of Durin wouldn’t be so easily broken. Our forces rallied and pushed the Orcs back! Our enemy had been defeated…. but there was no feast or song. Our dead were beyond the count of grief. We few had survived. And I thought to myself then there is one I can follow. There is one who I can call King.”  
By now all the dwarves are standing. The ones who were not there nor remember the tale hold their eyes to the warrior dwarves. With respect and admiration, they look to Thorin who turns back to all of us. Bilbo raise the question I dare not ask “And the Pale Orc? What happened to him?”  
“He slunk back into the hole from whence he came. That filth died of his wounds long ago.” Thorin hisses and turns back to the ledge. Balin doesn’t seem so convinced of Thorin’s words and neither does Gandalf who looks more worried than I have ever seen him. As my gaze falls back to the Dwarf King my heart breaks. My eyes well up with tears thinking of his sufferings. To think of what Thorin had gone through in his life. Now I know I’m not the only orphan here.   
“Witchcraft…” an unfamiliar voice whispers “A dark and powerful…magic.”  
I’m back in the forest again. The clouds still linger overhead but when I look up, I’m met with tangles of spiderwebs. Slowly I begin backing away hearing the voice whisper again “Witchcraft, a dark and powerful magic.”  
I hear jittering around me and the spider webs above begin trembling. The farther I step away trying to find my way out the webs they only grow thicker. The jittering grows louder and louder until I’m covered in webs.   
The sticky thread clings to my skin as if it’s becoming part of it. Frantically I try pulling it off, but it only tightens around me. Soon it threads up my body until its around my neck choking me. Gasping for air I desperately try to free myself, but it only tightens. It’s cutting off my airway. No, it already has. Before I crumple to the ground a hand takes my shoulder whirling me around and I’m met with a pair of panicked eyes from a tangled bushy drape of hair and beard.  
“WITCHCRAFT!”  
Gasping I find myself sitting up with my eyes locked with Thorin. Looking to me he fretfully brushes my hair from my face “Breathe, Enola. Just breathe.”  
Holding tightly to his arm I try getting control of my breathing “Th-th-there was a man in the woods. A-and the webs! The webs they-…”  
Seeing the expression of concern yet confusion on Thorin’s face deters me from speaking farther. Feeling the embarrassment flush to my cheeks I let go of Thorin “It was just a nightmare.”  
Slowly Thorin’s arms pulls back from me as he plops down letting his shoulders relax on his exhale “You gave me quite a fright.”  
“I’m sorry…” I mutter sheepishly “I didn’t mean to wake you.”  
“Your nightmares, do they happen often?”  
I nod “Yes, but they seem different now being out here.”  
Thorin raises a brow “Different?”  
Looking back to him I think of Dale, the dragon, and everything in between. Bringing my knees up to my chest I choose my words carefully “I usually dream about the same place and people. My home and family.”  
Snickering Thorin leans closer “Dream of your family? Hardly seems like nightmare.”  
Falling silent I nod trying to force a smile; however, Thorin notices my chance and his eyes fall as well “You dream about them dying.”  
“I don’t actually see it…” I mutter “But, somehow I can feel it. Just as I do now. All I know is my sister may have had a chance. Perhaps she-…”  
“So, they are dead?”   
Tears brim in my eyes and I nod “My mother is...my sister…. I don’t know. All I want is to find her but-…”  
“You don’t know if she’s here to be found.” Thorin says regrettably.   
Bringing my hands up I cover my face as my tears flow. Softly I cry trying not to lose control of myself but as the images of the fire raining down on Dale fill my head I break apart. No matter how hard I command myself to stop and to get it together I only cry harder. However, it’s not until Thorin brings me to his chest that my tears begin to subside. His strong arms hold me tightly gently squeezing me.  
“I’m sorry, Enola.” He mumbles into my hair “I know what it’s like. No one better. You’re not the only orphan here.”


	9. Farm House

*Bilbo*  
Waking up to the sun coming over the horizon I groan. Squinting my eyes, I sit up from my place by the fire. After Balin tale of the battle at Moria we all had fallen back asleep by the fire. Sitting up I’m the first awake. Just as I stretch looking over my shoulder my eyes widen. Against the rock where Thorin sleeps on is Enola. Her head resting on the shoulder of the King whose arm is securely around her along with his own personal cloak. Balin, who is now awake walks up next to me. A smile etched on his face looking to Enola and Thorin “My, what new and grand adventure is beginning.”  
The dwarves had awoken not long after the sun had risen above the horizon. Luckily Enola had awakened before them and Thorin quickly packing her belongings and residing under the tree next to Gandalf. Once the King had awakened, he looked around for the young woman and his eyes only fell when he saw her glancing to him from across the wayside. No one else seems to notice but I.   
“Ready Master Baggins?” Balin asks with a smile and I nod “Yes” and mount my pony. As everyone gets settled in their saddles, we begin our journey again. We ride throughout the day with pleasant weather. Some of the dwarves’ converse including Enola who speaks with the two young brothers.  
“I’ve always wanted to go to the Ettenmoors.” Enola says with a longing look “Gandalf and I have traveled to quite a few places but never the Hortus.”   
Kili’s eyes widen “You’ve never been to the Hortus?!”  
Enola shakes her head “No, I’ve heard of it all my life but never got the chance to go.”  
“Thorin took us there when we were young. It’s just east of the Lonely Mountain. The Iron Hills is where our families reside now.”  
Gandalf nods “Yes, the Hortus. I haven’t been there for over an age. Beautiful and magnificent place. Many magical yet placid creatures venture there.”  
“Why haven’t you gone back?” I ask, “Why not take Enola?”  
The wizard falls silent and his expression looks almost worried. Enola furrows her brows “Gandalf?”  
The grey wizard takes another draw of his pipe and then breathes out “Too bloody far.”  
The dwarves only laugh but Enola seems distressed. No matter how long she’s known he wizard, he is hiding a secret and I fear it pertains to Enola.  
*Enola*

“Well camp here!” Thorin calls back to the rest of us.   
Halting one by one we dismount our ponies. Sliding from the saddle I stretch whilst rubbing my back. The stiffness and tension in the muscle isn’t too comfortable. As I feel eyes watching me, I look up seeing Thorin notice my discomfort. However, for me, he sees me rubbing my ass. Quickly I stand up straight and turn away from him feeling the heat in my cheeks. I grimace hearing his footsteps come closer until he’s right next to me.  
“Hurts, doesn’t it?” he asks, and I glance up seeing his attention on my saddle. He begins helping me undo the strap as I nod “Yes. I’m not acquainted yet with riding horseback but it’s better than walking.”   
Thorin snickers “Ah, come on Enola, I’m sure you could handle a little cross country.”  
I laugh smiling widely “Do I look like I run?”  
We both laugh for a moment until we result back to silence. Thorin lifts the saddle off of my horse and puts it aside. It makes me uneasy seeing him do all the heavy lifting but I’m not complaining. Looking down I realize I have been wearing the King’s cloak all night and throughout the day. Removing it I fold it carefully and extend it out to him “Sorry, I-I forgot to give this back.”  
He waits for a moment looking at the folded garment then shakes his head “No, keep it. You need it more than I.”  
I’m filled with gratitude and feel my cheeks burns as I softly say, “Thank you.”   
Barely smirking he gives a nod and then stands there silently. I shift uncomfortably not knowing what to say. Without another word Thorin turns and takes leave of me. His face resulting back to its usual brooding. I let out a sigh that catches me off guard. It’s almost as if I was holding my breath. Or maybe it is just hoping to speak more with Thorin. One minute he’s giving me his own personal belongings and removing my ponies saddle, the next, glaring and acting sour towards me. His mood swings can be confusing and tiresome. It is apparent that any inkling we could be friends dwindles by the change in his demeanor even if he is graciously giving me no requested aid.   
As I put the cloak in my pack, I watch Thorin and Gandalf walk up to an abandoned farmhouse. Gandalf eyes it suspiciously “A farmer and his family use to live here.”  
Looking up the wizard’s eyes meet mine. He looks worried and motions for me “Enola, please, I need you here.”  
Quickly I hurry over “What is it?”  
“I need you to try again.”  
My eyes widen and my stomach twists into knots “Gandalf, we’ve discussed this. I can’t. I’ve tried before and I can’t. Whatever it is the I can do is have horrific nightmares that resulted from the sleep spell. Nothing more.”  
Gandalf leans in closer “Do you really believe that?” his eyes narrowing in on me.   
Glancing over my shoulder I see the Dwarves busy with setting up camp, Bilbo pets the ponies, and Thorin is circling the back of the shackled home.   
I give a small nod to Gandalf and look to the largest wooden beam next to me. Taking a deep breath, I rest my hand on the wooden frame. Closing my eyes, I try to relax and press into the wooden structure. For a good part of a minute I don’t feel, hear, or see anything, but then I catch a glimpse. For a mere second a scream rings in my ears and I see the house coming down by the force of a giant creature that is too dark for me to see. Jumping back, I clutch my hand to my chest and stare at the beam. It’s not just the nightmares I have.   
After I had awakened, I could touch certain objects with great markings or importance. I could see quick glimpses of memories or history. When Gandalf showed up, he helped me to expand on my new abilities. I was able to heal plants at times or aid them in growing. As time progressed, I could form a ball of light in my hand. It could get strong enough where I could throw the ball of kinetic energy and shove objects across the room or palace grounds. However, it was when I became too frightened or angered things began to change. When I was told of how long I had really been asleep and realized my family was gone I broke. I don’t remember much but I remember waking up to broken furniture and singed walls. Lord Elrond said as eruption of blue fire formed in my hands and exploded outward in the matter of a second. Then he saw me on the floor. Since then, I have not experienced another moment like that or felt any power within me. I don’t need it and I don’t want it. 

“What did you see?” Gandalf asks taking hold of my shoulder “Did you see anything?”  
“I-it wasn’t much…” I stammer “But…it wasn’t good.”  
Gandalf can see the fear in my eyes. They match his own expression. Just as Thorin enters the wrecked home Gandalf looks back at him and my eyes fall to the ground.  
“I believe it best if we move on.” Gandalf says with a hint of urgency “We could make for the hidden valley.”  
My eyes look up and I smile “You mean visit Elrond?”  
“I have told you already…” Thorin sneers “I will not go near that place.”  
I’m taken back and the wizards attention snaps to Thorin “Why not? The Elves could help us. We could get food, rest, advice!   
Thorin refuses “I do not need their advice.”  
Calmly I speak “I know we can’t read the map. Lord Elrond could help us. Believe me, I’ve seen his study.” but my reassuring words and smile are not enough for the stubborn King.  
“Help? A dragon attacks Erebor, what help came from the Elves? Orcs plunder Moria, desecrating our sacred halls, and the Elves looked on. You ask me to seek out the very people who betrayed my grandfather…betrayed my father?”  
I furrow my brow “No, that’s not-…”  
“You are neither of them.” Gandalf interrupts now becoming angry “I did not give you that map and key for you to hold onto the past.”  
“I did not know they were yours to keep!” Thorin snaps which causes Gandalf to result to silence. Awkwardly I stand there watching the two stares down one another but after a moment Gandalf grumbles and turns away. As he storms out of the farmhouse, I huff looking to Thorin before chasing after the wizard.   
“Gandalf. Gandalf wait.” I plead but he marches on.  
“Gandalf, where are you going?” Bilbo asks.  
“To seek the company of the only one around here who’s got any sense.”  
“And who’s that?”  
“Myself, Mr. Baggins! I’ve had enough of dwarves for one day.”  
Just before I can catch up to the grey wizard a hand reaches out stopping me. I meet Dwalin’s eyes as he shakes his head “Leave em be lassy. He needs time to sort it all out.”  
I sigh looking back in the direction Gandalf went “You think he’ll be okay?”  
“He’s wandered this world far longer than you or I have lived. I think he can take care of himself for a short while.”  
Giving me a genuine reassuring smirk, Dwalin pats my shoulder and then goes about his chores collecting sticks and firewood for Oin and Gloin. As the dwarf’s mutter amongst themselves of Gandalf’s departure, Thorin speaks out “Come on Bombur were hungry.” and they all disperse.


End file.
